


But Clouds Got in My Way

by Mugatu



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aaron & Gracie, Ace!Daryl loves his new gay dads, Canon compliant up until episode 9.5, Idiots in Love, Jesus Deserved Better and by Greyskull I'm gonna give it to him, Jesus is ours now, LET'S FIND OUT, Long Distance Relationships, M/M, Michonne Grimes & Aaron, Mutual Pining, just how sad can i make jesus's backstory, oblivious to love, screw canon, you know what i might just rewrite all of season 9
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mugatu/pseuds/Mugatu
Summary: “I’m glad I came back while you’re still here," Jesus said,  "I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous.“Yeah?” Aaron asked, warily. “What about?”Jesus made that nervous neck rub before going back to standing with his arms folded across his chest. “I know…well I’m guessing…you’ve gotten some of the same comments from the straights that I’ve been getting, right?Aaron made a face, “Are you talking about people who are trying to pair up the last two gay men on earth?”Jesus nodded, “That’s exactly what I’m talking about."





	1. Chapter 1

The day of the mission to the Capitol starts the same as all the other times they’ve been partnered for herd cleanup. As usual Aaron notices that Jesus moves like a dancer when he fights, knocking down walkers with a single well-placed kick to the sides of their heads. Sometimes the kick is all it takes, a casual arc of his leg and he hits them in just the right spot and their skulls are just softened enough by rot to end it then and there. If not, then Aaron can finish them off with his spear. Easier than shooting fish in a barrel.

Where this day in particular differs from all those other times is that after finishing off the walkers Aaron spins the spear in his hands and says, “Can you teach me sometime?”

Aaron doesn’t realize he’s attempting to flirt until after the other man shoots him down. “I got a kids’ class at the Hilltop you could audit. Maggie will be there. Carol sometimes shows up when she’s in town. So.” Jesus trails off awkwardly, and Aaron uses the mention of Carol to change the subject, radioing the Kingdom patrol.

It still takes a while for it to sink into Aaron’s brain. It’s not until they’re on horseback meeting up with the others at the rendezvous point that Aaron realizes that he’d practically asked Jesus out on a goddamned _date._

What. The. _Hell_.

The guilt Aaron feels is not a surprise. He knows the exact number of days it’s been since Eric died—it’s the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning. Today is five hundred and sixty-two. Aaron still looks for his face on every walker he sees and gets a flash of bile when he catches a glimpse of auburn hair or a similar body type. Eric is rotted away by now,but Aaron knows he’d still recognize him even without those warm brown eyes full of love, even if there is nothing left of his face but a skull. _Here hung those lips that I kissed I know not how oft._

What _is_ a surprise is how his disappointment that Jesus seemed completely uninterested is only a little less stronger than his guilt.

What. The. _Hell_.

He steals a few side-glances at Jesus as they ride, struggling to put his thoughts in order. God knows it’s not like the idea hasn’t crossed his mind. Or been horribly slapped across his mind by the almost hilariously offensive and oblivious straight people from both Alexandria _and_ the Hilltop.

Daryl had been with him when it happened once.The two men were walking through Alexandria, Gracie in Aaron’s arms, when poor Mr. Miller came to fuss over the little girl. The old man had survived the dead, not knowing the fate of his children or grandchildren, war, his wife’s passing. Nothing as bad as an enraged Daryl Dixon getting into his face after the old man asked if Aaron knew “that nice Mr. Jesus” was “another gay”.

“You made Gracie cry,” Aaron said, only a little reproachful. Daryl is surprisingly good with kids and she was already giggling in her Uncle Daryl’s arms.

“Guy’s an asshole, don’t give a fuck if he’s old and senile,” Daryl muttered, then,“He _just_ died.”

Aaron’s breath caught in this throat and he couldn’t speak as he blinked the tears out of his eyes. He loved the fuck out of Daryl for that. It was day one hundred and eighteen; an eternity by end-of-the-world time. Add to that the fact that Eric was just his _boyfriend_ , after all, and everyone knew that the silly, frivolous gays have only shallow feelings for each other. Fuck. Old Mr. Miller _was_ an asshole on top of being senile.

So. It’s not like Aaron hasn’t _thought_ about Jesus like that, and summarily dismissed the thought. Months after the incident with Mr. Miller word came from the Hilltop that Maggie had given birth to a healthy baby boy she’d named Hershel. Rick and Michonne got first dibs on a visit and when they got back it was Aaron’s turn. He’d just walked into the Hilltop and hadn’t even made it to the house when he was accosted by that stupid fuck Alden. He’d asked Aaron how long he was planning on staying, adding that Jesus was still on a run but he’d been looking forward to seeing Aaron.

So one of his first conversations with Maggie after she’d just given birth was more of an angry rant. “Just because we’re the last two gay men on earth doesn’t mean that we’re destined for each other, or have the first thing in common, or even _like_ each other! We’ve fucking spoken to each other _twice!”_ Aaron said, “And last time he gave me some idiotic fortune cookie spiel about ‘all times still exist even if we’re not currently experiencing them’. I told him I preferred the experience of the time my husband was alive.”

“That’s just how he talks,” Maggie said, shifting Hershel from one breast to the other. His friend looked drawn and tired. Whenever she looked at her new son her eyes had the most devastating mixture of happiness and sorrow that Aaron had ever seen. “Might be something to it,” she whispered.

Aaron found himself softening reluctantly, seeing the two of them together. If not for Gracie’s general existence then Aaron would have thought Hershel was the cutest baby he’d ever seen. Close second, though. He looked like his father, something easy to see when Aaron looked over to the picture of Glenn hovering on the nightstand by Maggie’s bed. It had been Aaron’s gift to her; he’d been going through old rolls of film that had remarkably survived the bombing of Alexandria and found one he’d taken of the entire group when they’d first arrived.

“Whatever. I didn’t need to hear it,” he muttered, then went back to cooing over his friend’s new baby.

Aaron is brought back to the present as they near their destination. The group splits up; half going inside the museum and the other half standing guard with the horses outside. Aaron is finding it hard to concentrate, eyes being drawn back to Jesus again and again, trying to sort out his thoughts. That visit to the Hilltop had been nearly a year ago, and in the time since he and Jesus have become…friends. It had actually started during that trip to the Hilltop.

********

Aaron was taking care of baby Hershel while Maggie took a much-needed nap. The baby was a dream for the most part, would eat and go down for a nap but he needed to be rocked first. Aaron was pacing back and forth in Maggie’s office humming softly to the babywhen he noticed Jesus skulking just outside the door.

“Hey,” Aaron said, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing Hershel, “When did you get in? Alden said you’d be out a few more days.”

Jesus came in, walking lightly on his feet and stopping a wary distance away from Hershel. “This morning. I decided to come in early. I’ve been worried about Maggie,” he said in an equally low voice.

“She’s doing well,” Aaron said, “Siddiq said the labor was unusually short for a first time mom.”

Jesus shrugged, “It felt like forever. At one point she made me promise that if she died I’d take care of the baby. Scariest moment of my entire life so far.”

“I understand and respect your fear,” Aaron said, “I never expected to be a dad myself. But. Well.”

“You seem to have gotten the hang of it,” Jesus said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against Maggie’s desk.

“It’s not as hard as it looks. Well, it is, but it’s worth it. God forbid anything happen to Maggie, but you can do it.”

Jesus’s lips quirked, “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I don’t have much experience with pregnant people, or babies. Not since…well, not for a while. Although a lesbian couple I was friends with tried to talk me into donating sperm.”

Aaron laughed, “You too, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was flattered, and the kid would have been rad as hell, but I had to pass.”

“‘Rad’? What are you, from 1987?”

“Rad is making a comeback at the end of the world.”

“If you say so,” Aaron said, still smiling. Hershel sighed, his little body relaxing completely. He carefully tucked the baby into his crib, aware of Jesus’s eyes on his back.

The two men made their way quietly out the balcony, looking out over the Hilltop. After a few moments Jesus said, “I’m glad I came back while you’re still here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Yeah?” Aaron asked, warily. “What about?”

Jesus made that nervous neck rub before going back to standing with his arms folded across his chest. “I know…well I’m guessing…you’ve gotten some of the same comments from the straights that I’ve been getting, right? 

Aaron made a face, “Are you talking about people who are trying to pair up the last two gay men on earth?”

Jesus nodded, “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I mean, we aren’t the last, there’s at least two more. Wes and his boyfriend Alex, they live at the Kingdom. Nice guys.”

“Really?” Aaron asked, unsure of why he was surprised. “Gosh, with Tara we have enough to start an LGBT social club. First one in the new world. Four G’s, one L.”

“We’ll need to find some B’s and T’s,” Jesus said, smiling a little.

“I think Michonne might be a B. I just get that vibe from her.”

“What about Rosita? Or Carol? They’re both too cool to be straight,” Jesus said thoughtfully.

“Happy as it’d made Tara for Rosita to be a B I think she’s unfortunately heterosexual,” Aaron said, shaking his head, “So’s Carol. We can talk to Tara. Maybe she’s cool with them being honorary L’s. Know any T’s?”

“There’s gotta be some, even if it’s the end of the world. Kinda rude to ask, have to wait for them to come to us. If we want to add an extra letter I think Daryl has the A’s covered.”

“A’s?”

“Asexuals.”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron said slowly. “Gotta admit I don’t know much about that whole thing, but the more people we can add to our club the merrier.”

Jesus smiled, “Well, learning more about each other is part of the LGBTA social club.” His face grew serious, “But. Seriously,” he hesitated, “I want us to be friends. Or at least friend _ly,_ and I don’t want…well, like I said, I know what people are saying. I wanted to clear the air, let you know you don’t have to worry about that. I know you’re not interested, I’m not either to be honest. I mean, you seem like a good guy but I was a disaster at relationships even _before._ ”

Aaron felt a rush of relief, “Thanks. I just…it’s been hard, is all. And it seems like almost everyone is ready to forget him.” The last sentence was a whisper. He didn’t know how accurate that feeling was, just that he couldn’t let it go.

When he looked into Jesus’s eyes he saw they were soft with understanding. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about him?”

Aaron’s throat tightened. “No. But thank you for asking.”

“If you change your mind you know where to find me.”

*************

Aaron looks over at Jesus, still trying to reconcile the fact he asked him on a date without realizing it. Aaron wasn’t lying about not being interested during their “clearing the air” conversation, and obviously Jesus hadn’t been either. Aaron doesn’t think the “not interested” part has changed on his end, which made his asking Jesus out even more confusing.

 _I’m probably just lonely_ , Aaron thinks. He glances over to where Jesus is taking care of a walker that has wandered too close to their group. He’s removed his coat in a rare deference to the heat, and Aaron can see the flex of muscle beneath his tight shirt. _I’m probably just horny too,_ he thinks ruefully. Jesus after all is a pretty fucking good-looking guy, and Aaron likes him. They’ve become friendly; besides the superficial Jesus is a good person— funny, smart, nice. No, not “nice”, that’s too bland. _Kind._ Truly kind, which is a rare quality to have these days. Jesus lives up to the nickname, even if his fortune cookie quotes can get annoying.

Anyway, it was a silly thought. Even if there was real interest between the two of them the two of them live in separate communities and Aaron is a fucking _dad_ now. His time is not his own, it would be difficult to juggle even if they lived in the same community. On top of _that_ Jesus is skittish around kids. He loves baby Hershel but every time Aaron’s seen them interact it’s like Jesus is handling a bomb that might go off at any second. If he really is teaching a kids’ class Aaron imagines the other man is a ball of constant anxiety.

He sighs, and pushes the thought out of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a light-hearted fix it fic for the most part, but this chapter contains Sadness, so be warned.

The stump is ugly, there’s no getting around it. Not that he’s criticizing Enid’s handiwork, sheundoubtedly saved his life. Siddiq had taken look at it and complimented her “nice work” in a voice tinged with pride before stammering out apologies that Aaron waved off. Siddiq has every right to be proud of Enid, and it wasn’t her fault that it happened. Still doesn’t make the stump any less ugly. Or the lack of his hand any less frustrating.

The frustration doesn’t set in at first, he’s too weak and feverish for days after the amputation to do anything but doze in the camp bed. Daryl sits with him during most of this time, fidgeting around his bed and occasionally glaring at the stump. Aaron knows he’s seeing the asshole who was supposed to be watching the herd and inadvertently gotten him in this mess.

“We’ll hafta get you somethin’ for it,” Daryl mutters one day.

“A hook, maybe?” Aaron rasps, “Arrghh matey.” He closes his eyes, being awake for any amount of time is draining.

He’s obviously joking, but Daryl answers seriously, “I dunno bout a _hook._ But somethin’. Somethin’ better than a knife or a hook at least.”

Aaron opens his eyes. He’s been falling asleep mid-sentence then waking up a few minutes later unaware of the lapse in the conversation, but he’s pretty sure that’s not what’s going on at the moment, “A _knife?”_

Daryl shrugs, “My brother had to cut off his hand near the beginning of everything. Strapped a knife on the stump after so’s he could keep on killin’ walkers.”

“Jesus,” Aaron says, “that definitely sounds like someone who’s related to you.”

Daryl snorts, then says, “Speaking of Jesus, I’ll ask Paul to look for something next time he’s out. He’s like one of them pigs that sniff out mushrooms when you give ‘im somethin’ to look for.”

Aaron’s lips quirk, “Truffles,” he says, then, “that’s what those mushrooms are called,” when Daryl looks confused. “Doesn’t matter,” Aaron whispers. He closes his eyes, truly drifting off this time.

His sleep-muddled brain reflects that Daryl is right about Jesus’s abilities to scrounge up supplies. It had been Jesus who had found the film developing supplies almost a year ago, the ones Aaron had used to develop the last of the Alexandria photos.

************

Aaron found the rolls of film not long after returning to Alexandria after the war had ended. Those early days were occupied with Gracie, helping repair the damage to the rest of the community, and trying not to think.

It didn’t always work. Despite how busy he was and how _exhausted—_ more nights than not he’d fall asleep in bed with Gracie against his chest, too tired to return her to her crib—in the middle of the night he’d reach for Eric and jerk all the way awake when his hands found nothing but cool sheets. He was never too exhausted on those nights to cry, muffling his sobs with his hand so not to wake Gracie.

He was luckythat his and Eric’s house had suffered minimal damage during the fighting, most of his neighbors couldn’t say the same. The first few weeks back home Aaron opened his house up for Scott and his family to stay, it was just too much house for one person and a baby. He found the rolls of film when he was cleaning out space in the guest room for him and Gracie (He’d decided to let Scott and his wife have the master bedroom, there were too many memories in there). Three undeveloped rolls of film tucked in with a few other trinkets in a shoebox under Aaron’s bed.

He wasn’t able to develop them for months, not until Jesus presented him with a treasure trove of film developing equipment during one of his rare visits to Alexandria.

“Daryl said you were looking for them,” Jesus explained, “there’s a community college not far from the Kingdom. It had an old school dark room, I grabbed everything that looked usable still.”

“Thank you,” Aaron whispered. He hadn’t been looking very hard for supplies. Being a parent meant that his time wasn’t his own, and more importantly neither was his life. He couldn’t justify traipsing all over creation and risking his life to find photography supplies. “I don’t know if the film I found is still any good, but if there are…might be a few pictures of people who aren’t around anymore.”

“Do you need help developing them?” Jesus asked.

“Do you know anything about developing pictures?” Aaron said.

“You can show me. Very least I can be an extra set of hands.”

Aaron didn’t need the extra set of hands, and to be perfectly honest would have preferred to do it alone, but Jesus _had_ done him a huge favor.

It wasn’t so bad at first, and Jesus actually proved to be of great help when Aaron cut the lights in his makeshift dark room. The guy could move through the blackness without getting lost and knocking things over, and during the developing process was perfectly content to keep his mouth shut while Aaron worked on the pictures. They were better than Aaron could have hoped—most were of Alexandria, pictures he had taken for his recruiting missions. He’d developed over a dozen before Eric’s face slowly appeared in the bath of developer.

Jesus was staring at a picture of the group in the church, a thoughtful expression on his face. He touched it gently, “I like looking at pictures. Reminds me of how times still exist. Like, everything that happened in the past. Everything that’s going to happen in the future. Good and bad. Even if we’re not currently experiencing them. They’re still there.”

Aaron’s good feelings towards the other man popped like a bubble. That sounded like a load of bullshit to him, right up there with “everything happens for a reason” that people said before the end of the world. “Well, I wish I was still experiencing the times when my husband was alive.”

Jesus looked like Aaron had slapped him, “I didn’t mean…”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Sorry, I’m just tired. Gracie kept me awake last night and I just…

“No, I get it. Sorry,” Jesus said with a warm smile. He lays a gentle hand on Aaron’s arm, “I hope you find more rolls of film. If you see one of Glenn—

“Yes, of course,” Aaron said.

Jesus mercifully left not long after, making polite goodbyes and leaving Aaron to his makeshift darkroom.

*************

More than a year later and Aaron is brought back Alexandria short an arm. He’s still weak and feverish but he can move around. Scott and his wife June insist that he stay with them—they’ve been looking after Gracie while he was still at camp, too ill to be moved.

He’s only at their house for a few days when everyone receives word that Rick Grimes is dead.

***********

There’s a service at the church in Alexandria, even if they couldn’t find the body, even if the closest thing Rick has to a grave is the remains of that cursed bridge that cost Aaron his arm and the communities their leader.

Michonne is supported on either side by Carol and Maggie. She stares ahead, face blank, as person after person stands up and tells their stories of Rick Grimes.

Father Gabriel tells the story of how he and Rick were once enemies, of how the man gave him a second chance which allowed him to find his courage and become the man the Lord meant for him to be.

Carol clutches the plastic bead she wears around her neck and tells the story of Rick searching for her missing daughter. Of finding her daughter, or what was left of her. Carol lowers her eyes and says, “Back then I wasn’t…I couldn’t do what needed to be done. Rick could. That’s the man he was. He never gave up on trying to do the right thing,at least not for long. When there was no other option, though, he was always willing to do the heavy lifting.”

Maggie tells of how Rick came to her farm with Carl bleeding in his arms, bringing with him the group that included her late husband. Of that night in the clearing, and what came after.

More people. More stories.

Jesus is among them. “Despite my nickname,” he says, “I don’t pray. Haven’t since I was a kid. But meeting Rick was an answer to all those prayers I never made. I was desperate, the situation at the Hilltop…well, we remember how bad it was. Meeting someone who was strong enough to hold everyone together. Even after everything he lost, he still did that.”

Michonne doesn’t get up to speak.

Neither does Daryl. In fact Daryl isn’t at the memorial service at all, and it will be months before Aaron sees him again.

After the service and everyone has returned to their respective communities Aaron packs Gracie up and goes straight to the Grimes’ house.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Aaron says when Michonne opens the door. She’s a beautiful woman, something grief has strangely enhanced. When she doesn’t answer Aaron says, “I shouldn’t be alone either. I’m still getting used to this. I’m going to need someone to help look after Gracie until I’ve adjusted, you’re going to need someone to help you look after Judith.”

Michonne looks like she wants to protest but is too exhausted. She lets him in, and mechanically helps him and Gracie settle into what was once Carl’s room. She barely speaks and Aaron doesn’t try to force her.

He remembers what Maggie told him right after Eric died. That nothing makes it go away, but it helps to do something about it. He doesn’t share this with Michonne, both because there is nothing she can do but go on and Aaron has the depressing feeling that this isn’t her first rodeo, so to speak.

He helps keep the house clean, helps prepare meals, helps calm Judith down when she angrily asks for her father, that she wants him to come back right. He softly repeats the things Michonne has been telling her—he’s gone, it’s like when Carl went away. He’s with Carl now, and he won’t be back. She doesn’t understand.

Aaron does all the while wondering if he’ll ever get used to this, to only have half of what he needs to get by. It’d be easier if he couldn’t still feel his left hand. If he couldn’t still feel pins and needles like he did when it fell asleep, like he couldn’t still feel an itch that he could never scratch. _Phantom limb syndrome,_ Siddiq tells him unnecessarily. Aaron’s heard of the phenomenon before and doesn’t ask if it will ever go away. His NGO did work in Rwanda, Aaron remembers meeting people who survived getting limbs hacked off by machetes wielded by their neighbors twenty years ago who could still feel them ache. 

Aaron is also there to help clean up Michonne after she starts vomiting explosively in the mornings about a month after Rick’s death.

He’s there one night to catch Daryl Dixon trying to leave a bundle of cloth on the doorstep unnoticed before melting back into the night. Aaron turns on the porch light, startling him, and steps out.

They stare at each other for a long time, and Aaron is overwhelmed with deja vu of…was it two years ago? How could that much time have passed? _All times existing at once, even if we aren't experiencing them._

“Daryl,” he says, stepping over the bundle he left on the porch. _Where have you been, what have you been doing,_ “Do you want to come inside? There’s food. Not spaghetti, unfortunately.”

“Nah,” Daryl says, shifting from foot to foot, then, “Just wanted to…” he drops his eyes, “Will you tell Michonne I been lookin’ for him? I won’t stop.”

Aaron’s heart aches, “I think she’d rather you spend time with the living than chase the dead.”

Daryl snorts, “Jesus said something like that to me too, when I saw ‘im last. I can’t…if he’s out there, walking around…I can’t leave him like that.”

“I understand,” Aaron says quietly, “It eats at you.”

“Know you do,” Daryl grunted.

“But I’m still _here._ Gracie needs me, Michonne needs…someone, and it looks like I’m it.”

Daryl doesn’t look at him, “She don’t need me. None of ‘em do,” he shifts from foot to foot.

“She’s pregnant. Michonne. She and Rick…they’d been trying. Before.”

Daryl lets out a breath that is almost a sob. He takes a moment to gather himself, long enough that Aaron starts to hope that he’ll come inside after all. But Daryl only says, “I brought her something I found, the other thing’s for you, from Paul.”

Aaron can’t think of what to say, what arguments to make, and Daryl is gone before he can. He heads back up the stairs, stooping to pick up Daryl’s bundle. He brings it inside, an old blanket wrapped around something heavy. Unravels it on the kitchen table, and lets out a soft noise.

What Daryl has found for Michonne is a familiar looking Colt Python. Very familiar, the first time Aaron met Rick he spent a great deal of time with it pointed at his face.

What Jesus has given Aaron is a prosthetic arm, and not the sort found in hospitals. This is a medieval looking monstrosity of leather straps and a metal gauntlet. There’s a note pinned to it:

_Aaron,_

_No luck finding a suitable prosthesis. Had Earl make this one for you, it’s heavy but can be used as a weapon that is slightly less dangerous than a knife. Get used to wearing it, next time you’re at Hilltop I expect to see you in class._

_P.S: Did you ever see “Army of Darkness” Before?_

Aaron studies Jesus’s note and despite everything he smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

Aaron is not able to visit Hilltop for another month, and Michonne insists that he doesn’t go alone. Rosita escorts him, she wants to visit Tara as well as Maggie. He is annoyed at the necessity of an escort, he can not recall ever feeling as helpless and vulnerable as he does now. They travel on horseback, Aaron carefully managing the reins with one remaining hand. The metal prosthesis rests against his thigh; it’s heavy and the muscles of his shoulder have only just stopped aching whenever he wears it. 

_I expect to see you in class,_ Jesus had written, and Aaron did not intend to turn down the invitation. Thankfully Jesus drops what he’s doing as soon as he sees them riding through the Hilltop gates, smile on his face growing wider when he sees the metal hand strapped to Aaron’s arm.

“How’s that working out?” he asks.

“It’s heavy,” Aaron admits, “But I’m getting used to it.”

“We might be able to get Earl to make you a lighter one,” Jesus says, “Just to wear when you’re not out there.” He nods in the direction of the gates, “But I wanted you to build up some strength in that side. Your balance is going to thrown off otherwise.”

“Makes sense,” Aaron says.”

“I want to work with you without using the left arm first,” Jesus says, “You can’t always rely on having it.”

“Ok,” Aaron says, “Let’s get started.”

Jesus smiles. “Ok,” he says, taking off his jacket, “Rule number one. Always be aware of your surroundings.”

************

Their first training session Jesus tells Aaron to try to hit him. He doesn’t even come close; and ends up knocked on his back no less than three times. Jesus doesn’t seem to even get a hair out of place from his neat bun.

“It takes time,” Jesus says, “My instructor said one of the first step is mastering _yourself._ You need to learn to control your own body and mind.”

He gives Aaron homework, a series of moves to practice both while wearing his prosthesis and without it. Aaron spends the next two weeks practicing vigorously. He gets help sparring from Rosita and Scott. She’s better, is able to block his wild swings and give a few tips of her own.

During their second training session Aaron comes with an inch of hitting Jesus and only ends up on his back twice. Jesus’ hair remains in place but he’s sweating a little. Aaron is given more homework.

The third session they branch out a little.

“There are different techniques for fighting the dead as opposed to the living,” Jesus says, “You have to keep both in mind.”

“Right,” Aaron replies.

“It has to become second nature,” Jesus continues. “With another person, you want to get close enough to grapple, short, fast moves that they can’t see coming. Here, let me show you. Act like you’re going to punch me, but do it slow.” As he speaks he tucks his left arm behind his back. Aaron does as instructed, watching as Jesus locks his right arm over Aaron’s, pinning it against his chest and jerking him close, down to his level. “Try to break free,” he says.

Aaron can’t. Even when he tries swinging his left arm at Jesus’s face the other man jerks his trapped arm tighter, knocking him off balance. He tries to use his legs, but somehow Jesus is able to snake a leg over and block those. Jesus is _strong,_ stronger than Aaron would have guessed given his height. Grappling with him is like grappling with stone, there’s more muscle under those layers than Aaron realized. Finally Jesus releases him, smiling a little. “Now, do it again, pay attention.” Aaron takes a slow swing, Jesus loops around his arm, pins it, and jerks Aaron down. This time he lets go immediately, “Now see if you can do the same thing to me.”

The first attempt Jesus is able to break free in seconds, telling Aaron he needs to really jerk down and hold him tight. They try it again, and again, and finally Aaron is able to get the trick of it, holding Jesus very close and twisting his arm whenever he almost breaks free.

“Good job,” Jesus says, smiling brightly. Then before Aaron can really follow what’s happening Jesus is doing this _thing_ with his legs, jumping up while at the same time jerking Aaron down and wrapping his thighs around Aaron’s neck and then Aaron is somersaulting forward, landing on the ground in a heap. Somehow he ends up pinned, Jesus’s leg across his chest, Aaron’s right arm firmly held down.

Jesus is grinning at him, “That’s an advanced technique. You’re not quite there yet.”

“I won’t ever be, I think you broke my neck,” Aaron says. Just as he’s starting to become truly aware of the firm muscles of Jesus’s leg pressed against his chest the other man is rolling away and climbing to his feet. He offers Aaron a hand, and claps him on the back when he is stood straight.

“More homework,” Jesus says. He gets down on the ground and starts demonstrating yoga stretches designed to increase flexibility. Aaron stares at him slack jawed for a few minutes before shaking himself and getting down on the ground next to him. He’s glad their workout has been intense enough that his red cheeks and sweaty face is unremarkable.

“Remember,” Jesus says as he goes through different moves, “Mastery of yourself. It’s one of the biggest advantages you can have over an opponent.”

The fourth session takes place away from the Hilltop.

“Against the dead kicks are good, helps you keep distance so you won’t get bit,” he smiles, “Especially for you, since your legs are like, ten feet long.”

Aaron’s cheeks heat; he’s come a long way since his awkward teen years but he still has more arm and legs than he knows what to do with.

When the walkers eventually show up Aaron gets a sudden jolt of fear, even though by this point he has killed dozens, maybe even hundreds. He keeps thinking that he has only one arm to fight with and has to battle every instinct inside him screaming for him to _run._

“Aaron, remember what I told you,” Jesus says at his side, “Mastery of—“

“Of myself, yeah, yeah,” Aaron mutters. The first walker reaches him, and Aaron’s leg arches out.

Jesus ends up killing most of the half-dozen walkers that have converged on them. Afterward they head back toward Hilltop, stopping just outside the gates to have a light meal. Apples from Alexandria, a bit of cheese made from one of the Hilltop cows. After few minutes of comfortable silence Jesus asks, “So. How are things at Alexandria?”

Aaron sighs, “They’re…they’re not the same,” he admits.

“How’s Michonne?”

Aaron shakes her head, “She’s grieving. She’s not giving up, but she’s…closing off,” he frowns into his hand, “I don’t know if the baby is making it better or worse. She’s just starting to show, Judith is asking all sorts of questions, and Michonne…it’s hard for her to answer.”

Jesus’s eyes are soft, “Hershel’s getting bigger. Maggie shows that picture you took of Glenn every night. She’s writing down all the things she remembers about Glenn in a journal. I think it helps her feel close to him.”

Aaron shakes his head, “I don’t know if Michonne’s at that point yet. When Glenn died there was too much going on for Maggie to dwell on it. That’s the downside of peace,” the last words are a whisper.

Jesus puts a hand on his shoulder, “It’s not a downside. She deserves to be able to feel it. Grief is like…this overwhelming thing. A fire that burns out the dead rot, but that’s the only way that new life can grow.”

Another fortune cookie spiel, but it’s kindly meant and this time Aaron smiles instead of snaps at him. There might be something to it, after all. “Maybe you’re right,” Aaron says.

“We should grieve,” Jesus says, “they deserve it.”

Aaron studies him; he realizes he does not know much about Jesus’s life _before,_ and he wonders who he must have lost. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

Jesus gives a little smile, “Unfortunately. Or fortunately, I guess. My parents, my brother, and my sisters died when I was a kid. I was able to learn how to grieve in peace time.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says automatically.

Jesus shrugs, “I’m hardly alone. Look at Maggie. Michonne. You. I mean, your parents, they must be gone too.”

Aaron hesitates, “I don’t think about it often, really. My dad and I, we were never close. We drifted even farther apart after my mom died. I hadn’t spoken to him in over a year when everything happened.” He feels vaguely guilty admitting that to someone who had lost his entire family years ago and is still obviously pained by it. He can’t lie, however.

“Was it the gay thing?” Jesus asks, curious.

“Yeah,” Aaron says, “Both my parents…they knew before I did. My mom’s answer was to try to make me more manly. My dad’s answer was to ignore me. Easy enough to do, he wasn’t around most the time. Military. We were always moving.”

“Was it just you?” Jesus asks.

Aaron nods, “Sometimes I think…well, sometimes I think if they had another kid who wasn’t a disappointment they’d’ve gone easier on me. Who knows.” Jesus doesn’t answer, and when Aaron looks up at him he’s staring out into the distance, face completely calm and blank. _Mastery over himself,_ Aaron thinks. “Anyway,” Aaron says, “I don’t think about them much.”

“I think about my parents all the time,” Jesus says softly, “Sometimes I wish I didn’t, my dad especially, but I’m used to it by now. That’s actually why I started learning martial arts. It helped me deal with some things. Better than therapy.”

Aaron almost asks how they died, but thinks better of it. “Well, you do seem to be the last _zen_ person left. And for me…it’s been helping. Doing this. With everything.” He’s not just talking shit, since they started training Aaron finds that he is noticeably calmer. Grief for Eric may have faded over the past two years but it’s there and likes reminding Aaron it still has teeth. Grief for Rick Grimes is of a different nature but it still eats at him, particularly seeing the effect it has on Michonne. Also on Daryl Dixon, who has still not returned to Alexandria or found his friend’s body.

When he looks at Jesus the other man is smiling at him softly, “I’m glad.”

************

By seventh session Aaron has finally managed land a hit on Jesus, and he only ends up on his back once. He’s feeling almost celebratory.

 _One day,_ he thinks, _One day I’m going to catch you off guard._

It almost happens during the eight session, although Aaron can’t take credit for it. They’re outside the Hilltop waiting for some walkers to show up, keeping busy by practicing their sparring. Jesus demonstrates how to block a kick, and tells Aaron to try it. He swings a slow, exaggerated kick at Aaron’s knee. Aaron lifts his arms to block and overcompensates with his metal arm. Instead of blocking the kick he gives Jesus a solid whack on the knee that makes him _scream_ out “ _FUCK!”_ and hobble away on one foot, swearing profusely.

“Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Aaron says frantically. Before he can apologize further a trio of walkers emerge from the bushes.

“Fuck, I got it, just hold back,” Aaron says. The three walkers go down easily, and when Aaron turns back to Jesus the other man is sitting on a tree stump massaging examining his knee.

“Here, let me take a look,” Aaron says.

“Just a scrape, Mom,” Jesus says.

Aaron ignores him and drops down to his knees. Their height difference being what he is even then he needs to bend down. He undoes the shoelaces knotted around the cuffs of Jesus’ pants. He’s able to do it as quickly as a person with both hands, one of the things he has been practicing obsessively is doing knots one-handed. When it’s free Aaron pushes the cuff of Jesus’ pant leg up past the knee. Aaron sees that the other man was right, it _is_ just a scrape. Still, things being what they are it doesn’t pay to take chances.

“You should wash it out with soap and water at the very least,” Aaron says, straightening up. He’s about to push himself all the way to his feet when he looks up at Jesus’ face. The other man’s lips are parted and his pupils are dilated under half-closed eyelids. Aaron realizes his hand is still on Jesus’s knee. His eyes trail down, he’s in the perfect position to see the beginnings of an erection tenting the front of Jesus’ pants. When he sees Aaron staring Jesus turns bright red, pushes himself up off the tree stump and closes his coat over himself. Aaron gets clumsily to his feet, cheeks burning.

“Sorry,” Jesus says, “It’s just been awhile.”

“Long enough that even amputees are doing it for you?” Aaron says, trying to lighten the mood.

“The world may’ve ended, but mirrors still exist, and I’m sure you’ve looked into one recently. So no false modesty.”

“How long has it been?” Aaron asks. He knows _exactly_ how long it’s been for him; he and Eric had a quickie the morning before the assault on the outpost. Seven-hundred and fifty-six days.

“Not since before everything happened,” Jesus says with a rueful smile.

Aaron does the math. “Four _years?”_ he says, astonished.

“Not like I’ve got a wide dating pool. And I was in a pretty bad dry spell, so closer to five years…” he trails off with a shrug.

Aaron thinks this is a goddamned tragedy. Thinks of how elegant and flexible Jesus is, and it’s a crime he hasn’t been touched in so long. Aaron knows it’s been too long for himself; even if Gracie and grief have left him too busy to really dwell on this fact. Months ago he’d tried flirting with Jesus and the other guy hadn’t seemed interested. The arm had been a blow to his self-confidence, but the look Aaron caught Jesus giving him helped him deal with _that._ Heat starts moving through his belly, and before he can really think things through he blurts out, “Do you…” his cheeks heat up, “I mean, do you want to?” As soon as the words are out he wishes a hole in the ground filled with walkers would open up beneath him. He wouldn’t even scream as he was eaten alive, he’d just be grateful.

Jesus’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away with a fake laugh, “Pity fuck or payment for the tai chi lessons?”

“It wouldn’t be pity,” Aaron says, “I mean, it’s the end of the world but mirrors still exist and I know you’ve looked into one recently.” His voice is light, teasing, but his heart is pounding away and he feels heat build in his groin. More of Jesus is flushing red, his neck and shoulders and the tips of his ears and it’s a good look on him. Some of his hair has slipped free from the neat little bun he keeps it in and is sticking to the sweat on his neck. Aaron’s never cared much one way or another about long hair on men, but he finds himself fascinated by Jesus’s.

“We’d never hear the end of it if you were seen walking to my trailer,” Jesus says.

He’s giving Aaron an out, one he considers taking for a split second before rejecting the idea. “Was it good?”

“Sorry?” Jesus says.

“You said it’s been since before everything happened. Was it good? The last time, I mean.”

Jesus meets his eyes with a spark of electricity which makes any idea of teasing or joking around vanish. Aaron’s pulse pounds and he realizes he wants this, wants _him._ “No,” Jesus says, “It wasn’t.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had _good_ sex?” Aaron says. He hopes the look he’s giving Jesus has a fraction of the heat the other man had just given him. What started out as a half serious offer has grown into a full-blown want.

“So long that I’ve forgotten what that is.”

“I can fix that,” Aaron says recklessly.

Jesus turns pinker and looks away again. He’s _flustered_ , something Aaron has never seen before and he never knew just how _badly_ he wanted to. “You’re a pretty confident guy,” Jesus says.

“I’m just taking your comment about false modesty to heart,” he says. His voice is low and husky and it should sound cheesy but Jesus just flushes an even darker shade of red.

“I…” Jesus says, “When were you thinking?” He’s trying to sound casual but his voice is high. Up until this moment the desire has been building gradually, now it peaks in a sharp spike. Aaron realizes that beneath his cool facade Jesus _wants_ him. Wants him _desperately._

“How’s your knee?” Aaron asks, “Up for strenuous physical activity?”

Jesus’ nostrils flare, “I told you it was just a scrape.”

“Well then,” Aaron says, walking past Jesus toward the path that leads to the Hilltop, “No time like the present.”

Jesus stares after him, frozen, before scrambling to catch up.

************

They’re both covered in sweat from the training session and the walk back so when Paul awkwardly suggests getting cleaned up first Aaron readily agrees. The showers at Hilltop are outside in makeshift wooden stalls, and Aaron hopes the two of them look casual as they make their way over.

Thankfully at this time of day the showers are empty. Jesus strips off his coat, gloves, and boots then gestures at Aaron’s prosthetic arm, “Do you need help with that?”

Aaron doesn’t; but he says, “Do you mind?”and raises his left arm.

Jesus studies him and Aaron can see his throat muscles work as he swallows hard. Jesus walks forward and gently takes the metal arm in one hand then starts carefully undoing the various leather buckles and straps that keep it attached to his stump. Jesus’ fingers are quick and dexterous and in seconds he’s sliding the metal arm off. Aaron takes in a sharp breath without meaning to. Jesus has seen the stump before, when he was training Aaron to fight without the prosthesis. It wasn’t up close and personal like it is now, and Aaron _knows_ it’s ugly.

Jesus, however, doesn’t seem to really be aware of it, instead he is tracing Aaron’s bicep with just the tip of his finger. They’re very close, and Aaron thinks if they start kissing now they’ll never make it into the showers must less Jesus’ trailer. So he takes a step back and headsinside the showers.

They choose two stalls next to each other, they’re separated by opaque plastic curtains but Aaron can still see Jesus’ silhouette as the other man starts undressing. Aaron snaps his eyes forward and takes his own clothes off and turns the water on. They need to make it to the trailer without being _too_ obvious. The water is warmed in cisterns so it isn’t freezing but it’s still cold enough to get himself under control. Aaron scrubs himself quickly, finishing before Jesus does.

When he hears the water go off in Aaron’s stall Jesus calls out, “Aaron? Why don’t you…” Jesus pauses, "Why don’t you head over? I’ll meet you there in a minute or two, makes it a _little_ less obvious.”

“Good idea,” Aaron says, pulling his clothes back on. He thinks he might rip the shower curtain aside and take Jesus here in now in front of anyone who cares to look if he just keeps standing here.

Aaron forces himself to walk as slowly and casually as he can to Jesus’ trailer, carrying his prosthesis in his remaining hand. No one stops him to say hello and while it _feels_ like he’s being watched Aaron can’t tell if he’s just being paranoid. It’s a relief to pull the door to Jesus’ trailer closed behind him.

Once he has he leans against the door and breathes hard. The insane self-confidence that let him proposition Jesus then walk all the way back to the Hilltop and now to the other man’s trailer is starting to fade. His stomach flutters nervously and his throat is dry. He hadn’t been promiscuous before Eric but he hadn’t been a monk either. Still, it’s been more than a decade since he’s done the whole sleeping with a new person for the first time thing.

He’s surprised that he doesn’t feel guilty. Well, he does, but it’s more guilt for _not_ feeling guilty. Right up until this moment he’s barely thought of Eric since propositioning Jesus. Intellectually he knows Eric wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life celibate. Especially when there is a very cool, nice, and _beautiful_ guy who is ready and willing to change that.

Aaron pushes himself off of the door and paces the length of the trailer. He’s been in it a few times before and it’s changed little. The lobster bib is still pinned to the wall, the floppy red hat still hangs on one of the coat hooks by the door, and while they might have shifted some piles of books still cover the floor. The bed is small but Aaron thinks it can fit two easily enough.

Before he can catalog more of the trailer the door opens and Jesus is standing there. Sunlight pours over him in contrast to the dim light of the interior and Aaron thinks he looks like a fucking renaissance painting. His heavy coat is tucked under one arm, he’s wearing a loose white shirt and his long hair is down and still dripping. It’s soaking through the cloth of his shirt, making it cling to the muscles of his stomach and chest. It’s sexier than him being completely naked would be, so Aaron finds his voice enough to growl out, “Fucking…get in here.”

Jesus lunges through the door and closes it behind him. Aaron strides forward and they meet each other after a couple of steps. Aaron is bending down and wrapping his remaining arm around the other man’s waist; Jesus is standing on his toes and winding both arms around Aaron’s neck and then their mouths are meeting.

Jesus is a very _good_ at kissing. He does it with an eagerness that sends sparks against Aaron’s tongue and then dancing all over Aaron’s skin down to his toes. He’s never kissed a man with as much beard as Jesus has, and certainly never when his own beard is this wild. He likes it, he likes it a _lot_.

They make out with increasing urgency, grinding against each other until, as though they’ve been given a signal, start grappling with each other’s clothes.

They run into a few hitches. Aaron’s gotten adjusted to doing everything one-handed but this is the first time he’s tried to take off someone else’s clothes. Or at least someone who isn’t a squirming toddler. He runs into trouble with Jesus’s belt and makes a frustrated noise.

Jesus pulls away enough to gasp out, “I’ll do it, don’t worry,” punctuating each word with a desperate kiss. Aaron turns his attention to his own clothing, which has been been altered by a woman from the Kingdom to make them easier to take off. There’s a few awful moments where they have to break contact and scramble out of their clothes but they’re crashing together as soon as they’re able.

Aaron is trying to figure out what to do with his stump and the difference in their heights makes things a little awkward but he can’t bring himself to care. He runs his remaining hand over Jesus’ damp hair, down his back, cups his firm little butt and digs his fingers into the muscle.

Suddenly there’s a weird sensation of doubling, he can feel Jesus’ warm skin under the palm of his right hand but he also feels it under his left. He breaks away from Jesus, startled.

“What?” Jesus gasps.

“Phantom limb syndrome,” Aaron says, and thank god Jesus looks like he knows what that is because Aaron’s blood is draining down from his brain to his groin and he doesn’t have the mental capacity to explain. Aaron squeezes Jesus again and this time he realizes it’s not exactly like doubling, the feeling in his left hand isn’t an exact mirror of his right. The sensation makes him shiver and whisper out, “Wow. Weird.”

Jesus bursts out laughing, “Just what I love hearing after being groped by a handsome naked man.”

Aaron is surprised into a laugh of his own, “You _are_ weird, though.” Before Jesus can say anything else Aaron spins him around and starts marching him toward the bed, kissing him the entire way.

“So are you,” Jesus gasps at, “Weirdly _tall,_ weirdly beardy—“

Aaron snorts out a laugh, they both sound so fucking stupid but that just makes it funnier to him. “My beard is rad.”

“See, I _told_ you rad was making a come—“ Jesus trails off, they’ve reached the bed and Aaron pushes him down into a seated position. He pauses to take a good look at him for the first time. Jesus has more muscles hidden under those layers than Aaron guessed. His arms in particular are surprisingly thick. He’s got more hair than Aaron guessed as well, dark swirls over his nipples and dusting his stomach. He has a few scars, a wicked looking one across his ribs that looks like it came from a knife, a small knot of burned skin on one shoulder, a twisted crater on the right side of his chest that can only have come from a gunshot. Aaron catalogs then dismisses them—everyone has scars these days.

Aaron steps forward bends down to kiss him. Jesus makes a soft little noise and parts his knees. His fingers tangle in Aaron’s hair as he slides down in front of him, dragging his mouth over Jesus’ chest. Once he’s kneeling in front of him Aaron tilts his head and rubs his bearded cheek against Jesus’ inner thigh. The other man goes still, leaning back against the mattress. He lays a gentle hand on the top of Aaron’s head, palm warm against his scalp. When Aaron takes him in his mouth he’s rewarded with a shiver and a groan.

God, he’s missed this. Having a man’s dick in his mouth, skin hot against his tongue, smelling his sweat, hearing the noises he makes. Not that Jesus is making a lot of noise, his muscles are hard under Aaron’s hand, he’s controlled and it’s mostly ragged breathing and the occasional soft “ _yes”_ that Aaron gets. That isn’t enough, not enough by a long shot, so Aaron pulls off of him and slides his first two fingers into his mouth, wetting them down.

“ _Aaron,”_ Jesus whines at the lack of contact, a white that turns into a drawn out groan when Aaron’s finger slides into him. Jesus tightens his grip on Aaron’s hair and spreads his legs wider. Aaron gets an actual _shout_ when he adds the second finger at the same time he takes Jesus back into his mouth. Aaron works him with his fingers in tandem with his mouth and tongue. Jesus lets out a strangled noise and Aaron pulls off again, leaning back to stare at his face. Jesus’ eyes are squeezed shut, he’s gripping the sheets with one hand and the other is rubbing his own nipple. The sight sends a savage jolt of _want_ down Aaron’s spine straight to his dick. It’s been a long time since Aaron’s had any kind of sex and even longer since he’s been on top. He’s never had a preference but Eric sure as hell did and was _good_ at it; loved making Aaron squirm and lose control completely.

Aaron wants to see Jesus like that. Wants to see Mr. Cool ninja with complete mastery over himself begging for it. He stands up so quickly that Jesus is startled and makes a little noise of surprise when Aaron pulls him to his feet. He holds the other man tightly to his chest, discovering that his maimed arm is still enough to pin Jesus close to him. Aaron’s remaining hand wanders down the small of Jesus’ back to his ass and he slips his fingers into the cleft, teasing at his opening.

“Please tell me you’ve got something, anything,” Aaron growls into Jesus’s neck. He wonders if spit would work, but that proves unnecessary because Jesus has some lube in his nightstand.

“Four years with just my hand, remember,” Jesus gasps out. They disentangle from each other enough for him to grab it. “I don’t have any condoms or anything, but—“

“Last STD check I got was clear,” Aaron says quickly, “It was nearly a decade ago, but it should still be…I’m good.” He doesn’t have to explain why, he can tell by Jesus’s expression he understands. He and Eric had been exclusive long before that final test, and after it had tossed the condoms out and remained exclusive up until the end. He obviously hasn’t been with anyone since.

“Me too,” Jesus says, sounding flustered and a little shocked at the words coming out of his own mouth. “I just…I’m used to being careful…”

“I’m willing to risk it if you are,” Aaron says. “At this point if either of us had something it’d be obvious.”

Jesus is breathing hard, and Aaron fucking prays that he’s ok with doing it raw. He totally respects and understands if not and wouldn’t dream of trying to pressure him into it, but. _Fuck._ Aaron wants him with an intensity that is so great he’s scared to analyze the feeling. It’s an overwhelming, atavistic _need_ that is wiping all rational thought away. All Aaron knows as that he wants to fuck that cool self-possession out of him. Wants to take him apart bit by bit and fucking _wreck_ him. Wants to hear him beg, wants to hear him shout out Aaron’s name. Wants to make him come so hard he sees stars.

“Yeah, ok, that’s…yeah, let’s do that.”

Permission granted Aaron wants to throw him on the bed and get started immediately but he makes himself ask, “You’re sure? It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

Jesus leans back to look Aaron in the face. There’s an expression in his eyes that Aaron can’t read. Before he can puzzle it out Jesus just says very quietly, “I want to.”

“Ok,” Aaron says, smiling.

“You’d better make it good,” Jesus says with a sly smile, playfulness returning.

Aaron grabs him by the upper arm and spins him around. Grabs him by the hair and bends his head down. Jesus goes willingly,chest pressed against the mattress. Aaron looks around for the lube before he realizes Jesus has it, is snapping the cap off and passing it to him.

Jesus’s backside is beautiful, and Aaron pauses for a moment just to admire it. The clean lines of his back muscles, the surprising breadth of his shoulders, the arc of his spine leading down to the narrow hips and shapely ass. The only flaw Aaron sees is a shiny white scar the size and shape of a quarter beneath Jesus’ right shoulder. Exit wound, Aaron thinks and again dismisses it.

Lube works much better than spit, Aaron fingers glide in and out with ease as he carefully works Jesus open. It’s not long before Jesus is groaning, “Aaron, I’m not going to get any readier than I am now.” Aaron would _like_ to keep teasing him but he’s in a similar state, if they’re going to do this it needs to be soon. He pulls his fingers out, grabs more lube and smears it over his dick, then runs into a problem: his legs are too long to do this standing up comfortably.

He steps back and says, “We’re going to need to get into the bed for this.”

“Oh of course we are,” Jesus moans, crawling into bed, “You’re like a damn giraffe.”

“I’m normal sized, you’re just a short ass,” Aaron says as he clambers into the bed after him.

Jesus is on his knees, bent over and gripping at the baseboard. “I’m average height compared to the world’s population. You’re the weirdly tall one.”

Aaron moves into position behind him and bends down to press open-mouth kisses at the base of Jesus’s spine. He drags his mouth all the way up his back until he’s curled around Jesus, chest pressed to his back. The other man tilts his head back so that Aaron can kiss his neck, lifts one of his arms behind him to cup the back of Aaron’s skull, fingers tangling in his curls. Aaron trails his hand over the other man’s thighs, up his flat stomach, thumbs his nipples then travels back down to give his dick a few slow strokes.

“Jesus _Christ,_ ” he gasps out, making Aaron laugh.

“Saying your own name in bed is bad form,” he teases, and curls his fingers around him tighter.

“I _did_ say it’s been awhile since there was anyone else in here with me,” he shoots back, “I’m out of practice.”

“I can fix that,” Aaron says, letting the other man’s dick go reluctantly.

Jesus arches back into him, “You keep saying that.”

 _Yeah, and now I’m going to do something about it,_ Aaron thinks. He leans back just enough to see what he’s doing and takes his own dick in hand, holding it steady as he starts pushing inside Jesus. They both take in sharp breaths that they hold in at the initial moment of penetration. Jesus’s back muscle ripple as they tense and then relax. Jesus lets out his held breath slowly, pushing back into it until Aaron’s all the way inside. Aaron takes in another sharp breath, forcing himself to be still, to let the other man get used to it. He runs his hand down Jesus’s back, sliding it around his front and thumbing his nipples. After an eternity of beautiful torture Jesus starts rocking slowly back against him, ragged breath turning into low cries when Aaron starts rolling his own hips in time to meet him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jesus gasps.

“Yeah?” Aaron replies, speeding up his thrusts. “How good?” Jesus doesn’t answer with words, just cries out and starts rocking back into him faster, matching Aaron’s rhythm. “Oh my _god,”_ spills out of Aaron’s mouth in a shout loud enough to make him wonder if anyone walking outside the trailer can hear them. Everything is too good for this thought to do more than flash for a brief seconds before he forgets it entirely. He slides his hand up and grabs Jesus’s hair, wrapping the damp strands around his fist then starts _really_ fucking him, hard and fast. Jesus responds beautifully, surging up so his back is against Aaron’s chest again, hips moving in sinuous undulations. Aaron lets go of his hair and grabs his dick, jacking him off in time to their rhythm.

Too soon he can feel Jesus’s muscles tightening around him, hears his cries reach a higher pitch.

“Aaron, I’m gonna…you’re making me…”

It’s good, but it’s not _enough._ Jesus is coming apart in his arms just like Aaron wanted but he needs more, needs to _see_ it. He lets go of Jesus and pushes him forward, pulling out of him. The other man cries out in protest.

“Get on your back,” Aaron gasps out, wishing he had an extra arm so he could just throw him down. He does his best with the one hand but thankfully Jesus helps and they’re able to reposition themselves with a minimum amount of fumbling. Jesus on his back and pulling his knees to his chest to make it easier for Aaron to throw both of his legs over his shoulders. Jesus grabs him by the dick and helps guide it back inside, shuddering when Aaron surges forward.

And oh god, it’s perfect, just what Aaron wanted. There’s no cool self possession in Jesus now, no distance, no “mastery over himself”. Jesus’s perfect hair is a wild mess, spread out over the sheets and sticking to his sweaty skin. His hips are leaping up to meet Aaron mindless and uncoordinated, lips are pulled back from his teeth and his eyes are squeezed shut. Jesus is stroking himself with one hand and the other is gripping Aaron’s thigh so tight it will leave bruises.

It’s over too fast.

Jesus spine bows and he shouts out Aaron’s name. Then he’s coming, _hard,_ and it’s the most beautiful thing Aaron has seen in _years._ He fucks Jesus through it, until the other man is spent and whining with overstimulation. Aaron feels his own orgasm rushing to meet him and pulls out just in time to come all over Jesus’ thighs and stomach.

All of the strength in Aaron’s body seems to leave him with the same force as his ejaculation. He collapses to the side, stretching his left arm out to catch himself; forgetting it’s no longer there. He loses his balance and there’s a dizzying moment where he tries to catch himself before rolls off over the edge of the bed but all his limbs are slow and stupid. Aaron gets out, “Oh _shit—“_ then hits the floor with a loud _thunk._

 _“_ Fuck,are you ok?” Jesus says. His voice sounds thick and drugged and he’s trying without much success to push himself up.

Aaron starts to laugh. “I’m _fantastic.”_

 _“_ Oh good,” Jesus says before collapsing back against the bed. After a moment he slurs out, “Thank you.”

Aaron, whose laughter has just subsided, starts going again. “Yeah, such a favor I did you. Let me know if you need me to do it again.”


End file.
